


Prohibited

by sciencebluefeelings



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21968770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Spock Prime is a graduate student that falls in love with the mysterious student who is always playing the piano in the university’s piano lounge.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock Prime, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 36
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnlySlightlyObsessed1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlyObsessed1/gifts).



> Dedicated to the ever wonderful [@Yikes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlyObsessed1) for humoring me and my never-ending Spock Prime feels. Dragging you into the k/sp ship is one of my proudest accomplishments >:)
> 
> Special thanks to [@Amada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dspd) for all the amazing spones ideas! Your encouragement helped me finish this fic <3

Spock stares with dismay at the particularly rowdy group of individuals occupying the graduate student lounge. Food is spread out on a table between rearranged couches, and it does not look like they will leave anytime soon.

Spock normally utilizes the space after lunch because it is always empty. He has developed a routine of working on his thesis in the quiet lounge before returning to his office to grade papers. He could simply return to the office to work on his thesis, however the student at the desk next to his always attempts to initiate conversation in a distracting and inconsiderate manner.

Spock decides to pay the newly refurbished piano lounge a visit. He has not seen the lounge yet because the graduate lounge is so conveniently located next to his office. 

He hears the piano before he reaches the lounge. The music is gentle and delicate, in the key of B flat major. It fills the background without being obtrusive. 

Spock rounds the corner and peers curiously. The room looks much like how the graduate student’s lounge usually does, full of empty tables and chairs. The piano is at the corner, and the player’s back is facing the side of the lounge from which Spock entered. The room is very large and the pianist would have to turn completely around in order to notice that Spock has entered.

Thesis forgotten, Spock silently sits at a table and watches the piano player with wide eyes. He has abandoned his previous repertoire to play a song that Spock recognizes - Prelude in E Minor by Chopin. 

It is clear that the piano player is highly skilled, playing without a single error despite there not being any visible sheet music. Spock watches him embellish the end of a phrase with graceful fingers. Spock redirects his attention to his laptop bag and pulls out his notes.

The pianist is still practicing when Spock finishes his work for the afternoon and reorganized his belongings. Spock leaves quite reluctantly, the piano still faintly echoing in the hallway behind him.

The lecture hall is silent as the students are bent over their exams. Spock monitors silently, but he is half-distracted from the present by his swirling thoughts.

Spock has not gone back to the graduate student lounge in favor of visiting the piano lounge whenever he can, hoping for another glimpse of the pianist.

Spock has determined the pianist visits on Mondays, Thursdays and alternating Fridays. He will play a wide range of selections, sometimes with sheet music, but most often without. Spock has determined the song he did not recognize is the pianist’s own composition that he is currently composing. He is constructing the song with diligence and care, trying several different phrasings and variations of each chord.

Spock is enamored each time he sits down to listen to the pianist. Spock wants to interact with him, but has not synthesized proper justification to say hello. He does not wish to be a bother, either. The pianist is always focused on his craft with incredible intensity.

Today is a Friday where the pianist should be in the lounge when Spock concludes class for the day. He does not let his nervous excitement show as the students hand in their finished exams and he dismisses them.

Spock decides to initiate conversation with the pianist today. He will ask him a question about Art Tatum, whose music the pianist seems to hold a particular fondness for. Or perhaps Spock will inquire about Chopin. Spock then remembers it may be most suitable to begin with introducing himself and learning what the pianist’s name even is.

The nervousness peaks when Spock hears the piano in the corridor. He steels himself and keeps walking forward. He pauses.

The playing is distinctive to the pianist’s style, but it does not sound right. The notes lack his usual finesse and care.

The music stops as an error is made, and the phrase is repeated. 

Spock looks around the corner and watches the pianist make the same mistake over and over, volume and agitation growing. The pianist slams down on the keys and makes a helpless, frustrated sound. 

Spock’s heart twists, even as his brain derails at hearing the pianist’s sweet voice for the first time.

The pianist rests his forehead on top of the piano, flexing his fingers as if restraining himself from hitting the piano again. The dark skin of his forearms contrasts with the rolled up sleeves of his white shirt and the pale paint of the piano.

Spock scrambles backwards as the pianist abruptly stands. Spock reorients himself with difficulty and rushes back to his office, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment.

Spock is almost finished reheating vegetable stew for dinner when Baby Spock staggers through the apartment door and kicks off his shoes. He disappears into his room and closes the door without offering a greeting. Spock hears the sound of a backpack being thrown onto the floor with a great deal of force. He shakes his head and unties his apron before ladling stew over two plates of rice. He carries one plate to Baby Spock's door and knocks.

“I'm not hungry,” is the reply.

Spock takes that as permission to enter. He has to nudge aside two sweaters with his bare feet to reach Baby Spock. His younger brother has claimed it to be an illogical waste of energy to organize his belongings if he knows where everything is regardless of where it is located.

Baby Spock sits hunched over at his desk chair, headphones covering his ears. Spock looks around at the unusual statues and wine-colored drapes decorating the space in haphazard manner.

“You have rearranged most of the furniture,” Spock observes mildly. “You must be particularly upset.”

Baby Spock throws off his headphones and turns on Spock. “Don't you have better things to do than come into my room and provide unnecessary commentary, _sa’kai_?”

Spock blinks. Baby Spock doesn't call him _‘older brother’_ unless he's _extremely_ upset. “What is it?” Spock prods. “Are you dating someone again?”

Baby Spock scowls. “I have _been_ dating him for twenty-eight days.”

Spock is mildly impressed. This individual has lasted far longer than Spock’s usual partners. “I am not sure if I know his name.”

“Jim Kirk,” Baby Spock says.

Spock does not recognize the individual. “So you two have come into conflict?”

Spock starts when a small sob escapes his younger brother’s mouth. Spock quickly sets the plate down on a small empty space on the desk and puts his hands on Baby Spock’s shoulders. “Spock?”

Baby Spock roughly wipes at his falling tears with his sleeve. His voice is stubborn. “It is nothing, _sa’kai_ , I’m fine.”

Spock can’t mask his alarm. Baby Spock has been in several relationships, but he has never cried because of someone he dated.

The alarm transforms into simmering rage. “I will go talk some sense into this Jim Kirk,” Spock vows.

Baby Spock stares. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.”

“You have never bothered to before, what makes him different?” Baby Spock gets up and pushes Spock away. “Don’t embarrass me in front of Jim. Get out of my room.”

“You will meet him and bring me with you,” Spock says firmly.

“No, I won’t.” Baby Spock succeeds in pushing Spock out and slamming the door shut. 

Spock sighs and goes to eat his own dinner.

Fifteen seconds later, Baby Spock opens his door and meekly walks back into the kitchen. “I need a spoon.”

Spock tightens the scarf around his neck and marches forward as Baby Spock follows in defeat. His younger brother had spent a good deal of the morning trying to dissuade Spock, but Spock refused to budge.

Their designated meeting place is in front of the main campus sculpture, which is covered in frost. Spock raises his eyebrows when he sees two individuals already standing at the sculpture, watching them approach.

One of them is the pianist from the lounge.

Spock’s heart stutters. He glances at Baby Spock, but he is avoiding eye contact.

The other individual positioned slightly in front of the pianist is dark-haired with a bad-tempered expression. He looks up with squared shoulders and an air of authority.

Spock is suddenly reminded of one of Baby Spock’s former partners, Nyota Uhura. She had a similar poise and confident expression, a recurring attribute of Spock’s partners. Logically, this scowling, dark-haired one must be Jim Kirk.

Jim's eyes flicker when they see Baby Spock, who has unsubtly moved further behind Spock. Spock’s anger flares.

Jim turns from him to Spock, making eye contact with him. “Spock?” 

“Yes, that's me,” Spock says, not bothering to hide the heat in his tone.

Jim stabs a finger into Spock’s chest. “Look here, _Spock_. You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

“Indeed?” Spock says flatly.

Baby Spock makes a noise in his throat as Jim grabs Spock’s jacket lapels. “Don’t play dumb, you fuckward,” Jim spits. “Jim usually deserves what he gets because he’s a dumbass, but this is the first time his boyfriend has made him _cry_ , so you'd better apologize right now and promise to be a better boyfriend in the future.”

Spock is stunned into silence. 

“Bones?” the pianist says, cringing.

“What, Jim?”

“Oh, fuck.” The pianist rushes forward. “I am so, so sorry for this. Oh my god.”

Bones is bewildered. “But isn’t this Spock?”

“My name is also Spock. I am Spock’s older brother,” Spock says, beginning to understand the situation.

Apparently this Bones person has made the same realization, because he flails backwards. “ _Fuck_ , I am so sorry!”

“I also apologize for the understanding,” Spock says agreeably. 

“ _This is exactly why I didn’t want you coming, to avoid a situation such as this,_ ” Baby Spock mutters with vitriol in Vulcan. His face has gone completely flushed.

Bones does not appear to hear his younger brother's scathing words. “Name’s Leonard McCoy. I’m just here for Jim.”

“Ah, I see.” Spock’s stomach sinks as he looks again at the handsome pianist - Jim - who is still looking at the ground.

Baby Spock coughs. “Jim - ”

“Uh. Yeah.” Jim holds out his arm as Baby Spock rushes over to his side. Spock has never interacted much with Baby Spock’s various partners, much less been attracted to them. He is at a complete loss on how to handle the gnawing jealousy growing inside him. Jim says, “We appreciate it, both of you, for trying to help. But we can handle things perfectly fine on our own.”

McCoy raises his eyebrows. “Can you, now?”

“Yes,” Baby Spock says stubbornly.

“I find that debatable,” Spock says, “But feel free to prove me wrong.”

McCoy makes a surprised, pleased noise. Baby Spock says something extremely unpleasant in Vulcan and drags Jim away.

“Sarek would be disappointed by your choice of vocabulary,” Spock calls after them. His teasing voice lacks its usual cheer. Spock is unable to stop looking at Jim’s arm around his younger brother.

McCoy’s voice snaps Spock out of his spiral of gloom. “Sorry again about all this. It’s really nice of you to look out for your younger brother. Still can’t believe you have the same name.”

“Our father did not expend much effort into naming us.” Spock is pleased when McCoy laughs. “And you are a very loyal friend to care for Jim in such a manner.”

McCoy suddenly looks shy, rubbing his neck. “Jim’s a disaster but I try to look out for him. Sometimes.”

Somehow, Spock knows McCoy is severely downplaying his depth of care. “I assume you have not met my younger brother before?” 

McCoy hums. “Actually - well, I knew Jim was dating someone named Spock but I’d never formally met him before. But I recognized him - we’re in the same lab often, after class hours.”

A strong gust of wind blows by and Spock tightens his scarf again. “You are also in biomed?”

“Yep,” McCoy says with a grin. He gestures behind him. “Hey, wanna get out of this cold? Coffee? The cafe is right over there.”

“I am not opposed,” Spock says, feeling a little lighter.


	2. Chapter 2

Baby Spock does not return until the next day. Spock is in their joined living space reading on the couch when his younger brother walks through the door. Spock fails to ignore the conspicuous love bites on his younger brother’s neck.

Baby Spock frowns at the apple tart on the counter. “Where is this from?”

“McCoy,” Spock says, impressed at his own ability to keep his voice level. “He is self taught. He makes the pastry himself.” 

Baby Spock glares accusingly. “He made this for you? Did you tell him to make it?” Spock is one of the few that knows of Baby Spock’s ‘preference’ for the particular dessert. 

“Of course I didn’t tell him.” Spock watches Baby Spock remove his coat. “McCoy says you frequent the same lab together. Did you recognize him?”

“I did,” Baby Spock says stiffly. “He is the only other individual who occupies the lab on Monday nights. We have never spoken to each other, but he speaks to himself a great deal.”

“Does he? That does not surprise me.”

“McCoy appears to me the epitome of human beings,” Baby Spock says dismissively. “Tenacious and thoroughly illogical.”

“I find him quite fascinating,” Spock says easily. Baby Spock’s eyes widen subtly and Spock resists the urge to laugh. 

Baby Spock’s phone buzzes, and he looks at the screen before texting something. “Jim is asking if I have returned safely.”

Spock’s mood becomes subdued thinking of the handsome pianist. “Might I ask why?”

“I do not understand the inquiry.”

Spock turns to face his younger brother, who is gingerly probing at the tart with a fork. “Why you are dating Jim Kirk.”

“It seemed logical to accept his proposal at the time.” 

Spock sighs and turns away. “Have you heard him play the piano? It is-” Compelling? Wondrous? Spock cannot find the words to describe the elegance that is Jim’s artistry.

Baby Spock puts the fork in his mouth and shrugs. “I find myself neither favorable to nor repelled by his music.”

Spock freezes. 

“This is an excellent apple tart.” 

Spock snaps, “How could you say that about Jim’s music?” Baby Spock’s eyebrow is raised. Spock realizes he is on his feet, fists clenched.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Spock retreats into his room and closes the door. His younger brother doesn’t follow.

McCoy squints at his pipette, cursing himself for the eighteenth time for not properly cleaning his safety goggles before conducting the lab experiment assignment. It had seemed like such a hassle at the time. Now everything is sweaty and blurry. But it would be a waste of gloves - McCoy would have to discard the ones he has on now, clean the goggles, and get a new pair of gloves. 

Not to mention McCoy can’t abandon the equipment. He has not started any fires and does not intend on doing so anytime soon.

McCoy cleans up the first stage of the lab and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Jim’s boyfriend right next to him. “ _Fuckin’ hell!_ ” 

Thankfully, McCoy was not holding anything in his hands at the time - he would’ve definitely broken it. He groans and turns to face Jim’s boyfriend. “Hi. What do you want?”

Jim’s boyfriend has that perpetual, constipated look on his face. It’s a shame, too, that good-looking face gone to waste. “I require knowledge of your intentions towards my older brother.”

McCoy scrunches his nose. “Me? Towards Older Spock?”

“Pardon?”

McCoy gestures at him. “Younger Spock.” He gestures beyond to wherever the other Spock might be. “Older Spock.”

“My older brother is not residing in the ceiling. Respond to my inquiry.”

“You’re a funny one, you know that? You’re lucky you’re cute.” McCoy is about to tap his finger on his chin but he catches himself. He's done that before to detrimental results, and he won’t be caught dead doing that twice. “Your brother is, uh, very nice. Understanding. We get along. I’d let him fuck me if he asked.”

Okay, that last one’s a downright lie, but it’s completely worth it. The unwarranted comment cause Spock’s face to shuffle through multiple expressions. “My brother does not seek such union.”

“Yeah? How can you know that?” 

“He has - he has never even dated anyone before.”

“I don’t believe you, but okay.” McCoy is distracted by the results of the lab experiment, which are all over the place as usual. It’s definitely too hot in here, McCoy had to shed his sweater earlier. Someone must've cranked up the heat. 

Spock moves out of the way as McCoy walks past him. “What do you mean, you don’t believe me?”

“Have you seen your older brother, man?” McCoy checks the lab room’s thermometer and confirms his suspicions. He’ll have to redo this part of the experiment. “That kid looks a little old for his age but he’s a hot piece of ass.”

Younger Spock sighs and redirects his attention to his own experiment. “The substrate is not acting properly.”

“Yeah, mine too. The ambient temperature is almost four degrees Celsius above what it was during the lab in class. You have to adjust for it.”

Spock frowns. “That cannot be correct. I cannot tell any difference.”

McCoy pays attention at that. Now that he is looking closely, Spock is definitely a little flushed.

McCoy snaps off his gloves and holds the back of his wrist to Spock’s forehead. “Oh, shit. You’ve definitely got a fever. What the hell are you doing here so late at night?”

Experiment forgotten, McCoy nudges Spock towards the door. “I’ll clean up for you and share my results. Go drink hot fluids and get some sleep. You only brought a coat? Completely fucking unacceptable. Take my hat. And scarf. I’ll get them back when we meet to share data. Okay?”

Spock looks overwhelmed by the sudden deluge of concerned words. “It would not be fair to you.”

McCoy feels a sudden rush of affection for this strange person - that also happens to be Jim’s boyfriend and completely off limits. “I don’t want to be catching your gross germs, heathen. That is the only reason I am being so kind and amazing and generous. Get out of here.”

McCoy crams his hat onto Jim’s boyfriend’s head, mussing up his pristine bangs. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Spock has a ghost of a smile on the edge of his lips.

Spock’s heart leaps when he hears the lounge piano. 

He has told himself he has accepted the situation. He can be good friends with his brother’s boyfriend, and nothing more. 

Spock crosses the lounge to stand next to the piano, his throat feeling tight.

Jim beams up at him, and Spock’s jealousy wars with his happiness once more. “Hey, Older Spock.”

“Hello, Jim.”

Jim inches aside on the piano bench. “Sit with me?”

Spock cannot deny the request. Removing his laptop bag, he puts it aside and sits next to Jim, feeling his body heat radiate between them.

Spock looks down at the piano. “There are so many keys.”

Jim laughs and proceeds to continue playing the scales he was practicing before being interrupted. 

Spock marvels at the opportunity to watch Jim’s beautiful hands up close, fluttering over the keys with precision. “What are you studying, Jim? Music theory?”

Jim nods, still playing. “Music theory and piano performance. I’d love to travel and play. It’s my dream.” Jim tilts his head to look at Spock. “You?”

“Literature. On the Vulcan, Romulan and Standard tracks.”

“Wow. You like to write?”

“Occasionally.”

Spock smiles as Jim tilts his head back with a loud laugh. “I sure hope you like writing, if you’re studying it every day.”

Spock redirects his attention to the piano. “Are you going to keep practicing scales? Play something.”

“Only people that can guess correctly get to make requests. See if you recognize this.” Jim immediately switches to playing a dramatic introduction. Every time the chords go up to the high notes of the piano, his arm grazes Spock’s in an electrifying gesture.

“Tchaikovsky,” Spock says. “Piano Concerto, number one.”

Jim’s eyes widen. Spock smiles faintly. “I have a fondness for the works of the Romantic era.”

“Well, shit. Then do you recognize this?” Jim begins playing again.

Spock hesitates. “Rachmaninoff.”

“Well, damn. You weren’t kidding about liking music from the Romantic era. I thought I was the only one that listens to music from the nineteenth century. Hey, I bet you’ll never guess this one.”

Jim begins playing with careful, tender notes. By now Spock is watching Jim's enraptured expression more than his beautiful hands. Jim plays to the end of the song and slowly releases his fingers from the keys. He looks expectantly at Spock.

“It is incredibly beautiful,” Spock says softly.

Jim nudges Spock, his eyes sparkling. “Stop delaying and guess.”

“It is your own composition.” 

Jim’s smile was gone. He stares at Spock, eyes dark and vulnerable. “You’re - you're correct. But how?”

Spock pauses before letting out a small breath. He confesses, “The truth is, Jim, I’ve sat at the back of the lounge and listened to you play ever since the second week of the semester.”

Spock can almost hear Jim doing the math. “For that long?”

Spock nods, embarrassment coloring his face. 

“And I never noticed?”

“I always sat at the far table where I would be difficult to see. You were generally preoccupied and I did not want to bother you.”

“Well, this may be hard to believe, but I like an audience.” Jim winks. “Preferably one I can see. Don’t hide behind me anymore.”

“I will keep that in mind.” 

“So, Older Spock? Song request?”

Spock relocates to a table near Jim and takes out his laptop, reveling in the happiness that he can have at least this. “Play your own composition. I wish to hear it again.”

The smile on Jim’s face grows as he begins playing once more.

“Bones!”

McCoy looks up and waves at Jim. Then he blinks when he sees the individual following Jim.

Jim nudges Younger Spock with a smirk. “Finally convinced the boyfriend to join us for our weekly meeting.” McCoy expects Jim to sit next to him, but he sits a chair away, leaving Spock to sit in between them.

Spock looks about at the brightly colored squares of paper and handouts full of instructions. “This is most unusual.”

McCoy takes a green piece of paper. “You mean you’ve never seen origami before?”

“I am not very familiar with it.” More people have gathered in the room, and the meeting organizer stands at the front to instruct how to fold the first model, step by step.

McCoy tunes her out, like he usually does. The instructions on the handouts are pretty clear, and her pace is glacially slow for him. His finger expertly finishes creasing the final fold, and he tugs the opposing ends to pull the paper into its full shape. It pops open with a satisfying noise.

Spock stares with wide eyes at McCoy’s spinning top. “You have already completed it?”

“Bones is the best in this room,” Jim says, distracted by the organizer’s instructions. “Undisputed.”

Spock squints down at the handout and then back at the organizer. “I do not understand what she is doing anymore.”

McCoy stifles a laugh when he sees Spock’s sadly misshapen lump of colorful paper. Spock glares at him. The kittenish pout just tips McCoy over the edge and he bends over laughing. “Okay, okay, sorry. So damn touchy. Let’s see what happened.”

McCoy reorients Spock’s paper and helps him catch up to the organizer. Spock has redirected his glare down to the paper, intensely focused on each fold. It’s unwarranted how fucking adorable it is.

The organizer has moved onto the next origami model, warning of increased level of difficulty. Spock is still focused on the spinning top model, folding another one that is only marginally less misshapen.

Jim glances at his boyfriend. “You’re not following her instructions anymore, babe?” His origami models are pristine like McCoy’s.

“No,” Spock says. “I must practice until my origami model is comparable to McCoy’s.”

Jim laughs. “Good luck with that. Look, he’s already done folding every model.” 

Spock blinks at McCoy’s completed models. “They are all green,” he observes.

“Yeah, it’s my baby girl’s favorite color,” McCoy says cheerfully. He tosses a folded flower in his broad palm. “I’ll give them all to her.”

Spock freezes and looks at McCoy with creased eyebrows. He drops the volume of his voice. “A girl? Who?”

McCoy feels that familiar bittersweet smile on his face. “My daughter, Joanna.”

McCoy watches Spock’s eyes dart to his ringless hand. “You are _married_?”

It’s the most emotion McCoy’s ever heard from Spock. McCoy glances at Jim. He’s talking to the individual sitting behind him, oblivious to Spock or McCoy.

“Not anymore,” McCoy finally says. “I had to drop out of school a while - finally had the opportunity to come back just this year. I’m a lot older than most of the people in my class.”

“I did not realize - your appearance would not suggest so.” Spock’s face is becoming more open. “How old is your daughter?”

McCoy beams. “She’s six. Cute as a button, and she talks so well.”

“You asking Bones about Joanna, Spock?” Jim laughs and slings his arm over his boyfriend, who slightly shifts from the touch. “Oh, boy. You’re digging your own grave. Spock, this man here refuses to stop gushing over her once he starts.”

McCoy throws a crumpled handout at Jim’s head. “Fuck you. Everyone needs to hear about my amazing, genius beautiful baby girl.”

Jim sticks his tongue out at him and goes back to his origami.

“I do not mind,” Spock says. “I would like to hear about her.”

So McCoy talks about Joanna’s art projects she brings from her school, her school assignments, her excitement in learning about sea turtles - the reason why her favorite color is green - and other sea creatures. 

Spock listens attentively. It’s the complete opposite of Jim, who has made it clear more than once he doesn’t care much for young children. 

When the meeting ends, McCoy and Jim exchange knowing glances as Spock gathers the remaining unfolded origami paper and tucks it away into his own bag.

Spock leans in the doorway of his younger brother’s bedroom and stares at the tiny balls of paper littering the floor and desk.

Baby Spock isn’t wearing headphones, but he is so concentrated on what he is doing that he doesn’t notice Spock watching.

Spock speaks up. “Do I dare ask?”

Baby Spock finally looks at him. “It is origami.”

Spock sees the badly folded paper in his younger brother’s hands and raises an eyebrow. 

“It is a spinning top.”

Spock is about to ask if it is for Jim when Baby Spock adds, “I cannot allow McCoy to have the superior model. I will perfect this craft and show it to him.” Spock listens to the renewed sounds of crinkling paper. He shakes his head and walks away.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you see this?” McCoy gestures grandly, nearly knocking over his mug. The blue spinning top in his hand is perfectly creased. “I’ve never seen your brother look so damn proud.”

Spock chuckles softly. “Baby Spock’s room is even more disorderly than it usually is. There is origami paper everywhere. I am not sure where he sleeps.”

“That intent on defeating me, huh?”

“It is difficult to dissuade him once he has made a decision,” Spock agrees.

“God, that sounds so much like Jim.” McCoy puts down the top on the cafe table. “You know - I genuinely thought you two were dating when we first met. You're kinda exactly his type.” McCoy laughs.

“Oh.” Spock brings his mug to his face, but he can't hide his miserable expression. 

McCoy freezes, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. Spock?” 

Spock closes his eyes. The feelings have not diminished with time as he had hoped. Not to mention hiding his affection has grown more difficult as he spends more time with his brother’s boyfriend.

McCoy’s voice softens. “God. I’m sorry, Spock. I shouldn’t have said that. Even if I didn’t know - you feel that way about Jim.”

“It is fine,” Spock says weakly.

McCoy reaches out and smooths the back of Spock’s hair in an affectionate gesture.

Spock blinks. It’s only at moments like this when he is abruptly reminded that McCoy is older than him. When McCoy smiles at him, Spock smiles back. McCoy leans into his seat, face still warm and amicable. “Tell me about that new novel you’re thinking of again. The one with the angels.”

“Of course. I would be honored to share.”

Baby Spock ignores him that night, during dinner and dish washing. Spock attempts to initiate conversation three times and his efforts are completely ignored. Normally Spock would ignore it. His younger brother’s moods come and go, but today Spock is not feeling as patient as he usually does.

He puts down the towel and faces his younger brother. “Would you care to explain what I have done to warrant such rudeness?”

His brother finally looks him in the eye for the first time that day. “Are you dating McCoy?”

“Date - no, of course I am not dating McCoy. I do not wish to date him.” Spock forces away the image of his brother’s boyfriend from his mind.

“You are lying,” Spock accuses. “I saw you with him today in the cafe. Do you allow friends to treat you in such a manner?”

Spock cannot remember any particular interaction that would cause one to draw such an extreme conclusion. “We are not dating, Spock.”

His brother’s voice is harsh. “Do you find yourself harboring romantic inclinations for him?”

Spock’s patience is frayed. His voice sounds broken to his own ears. “What does it matter? You are not dating him. You are dating _Jim_.” 

At that, his brother takes a step back, wide-eyed. Spock squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the dreaded question. 

He will not be able to lie. His brother will ask if he desires his boyfriend and Spock will be unable to deny it.

His brother doesn’t say anything more. 

“Truth or dare?” 

“It has already been my turn,” Spock laughs. 

Jim looks like he is thinking extremely hard. “No, I'm pretty sure it's your turn now. You just said the story about the sweet potatoes - oh wait, that was me.” 

Spock laughs again freely, leaning into the back of his couch.

They're the only ones in his apartment. Baby Spock and McCoy are at a mandatory science conference with the rest of their department. Jim showed up at the apartment entrance Friday night with a wide grin, brandishing a large bottle of chocolate liqueur that looked positively ghastly.

It doesn’t feel right. Jim is still his younger brother’s partner. Spock shouldn’t encourage this behavior, encourage the feelings he should move on from. 

Spock lets Jim in. He procures a glass for each of them and Jim distributes the horrid liqueur. They are both mildly tipsy already.

Spock adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Truth or dare, Jim.”

“Truth,” Jim finally says.

“Your favorite Romantic Era symphony.”

“Your questions are all too innocent,” Jim complains. 

Spock shrugs. “I genuinely desire to know the answer.”

Jim falls silent for a while. “Sibelius,” he finally decides. “Symphony number six.”

“Ah, yes. It - is a very moving piece.” _Lonely,_ Spock wants to say. It sounds beautiful, but very melancholic and lonely.

Jim inches closer. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Tell me a secret you’ve never shared with anyone before.”

Spock smiles ruefully. “I write erotica in my free time.”

Jim’s eyes are wide with glee. “Really? That’s fucking amazing. Is it based on anything? Your former relationships?”

“No, I have not been in a relationship yet.”

Jim gives Spock the same bewildered expression McCoy had given him when Spock replied to the same question. “Shit. I never would’ve guessed. With your looks, you must've had plenty of admirers.”

“How cruel,” Spock chides, still smiling. “I am already aware I look older than-”

“No, no, I wasn’t being sarcastic,” Jim interrupts. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

Spock’s heart skips at the genuine tone of Jim’s voice. He quickly deflects the comment. “I am still not as conventionally attractive as my younger brother. He has had all the relationships.”

Jim puts his glass down next to Spock’s. “So you’ve never dated at all before? Anyone? What about one time flings?”

“No, nothing. I prioritized my work, I suppose. And there was never an individual of interest.” Spock isn’t looking at Jim, but he can feel his body heat, like he can when he sits next to him on the piano bench. Spock wants so desperately to nuzzle into the warmth. 

He doesn't. “Truth or dare, Jim.”

Jim leans closer. “Dare.”

Spock helplessly stares at Jim’s lips, which are slightly parted and covered in a soft sheen.

He finds his throat cannot form words.

At that moment, Jim seems to realize how close their proximity has gotten. He stands so quickly that Spock is startled backwards. Jim isn’t looking at Spock. “I should go.”

Spock stares at Jim’s back, feeling the impending weight of an inevitable end. “Did you still want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jim’s reply is light in tone.

Spock doesn’t dare speak again, not trusting his voice to disguise how heartbroken he feels.

The apartment door closes, and Spock sits alone in numb silence, unable to do anything.

McCoy doesn’t bother to begin with pleasantries when Jim opens the door, his face groggy and unshaven.

McCoy storms into Jim’s single dorm room. “Is Younger Spock in here?” 

Jim sighs. “No.”

“Good.” McCoy slams the door shut. “I am not happy, Jim. Not happy. Can you guess why?”

Jim doesn’t reply. McCoy glares. “I met with someone recently. And said someone was in a terrible state.”

Jim’s voice is rough from sleep and downright irritated. “Bones, what the fuck? What was I supposed to do?”

“You didn’t have to cut him off completely and ignore him like this,” McCoy argues, completely pissed. “How long have you known the older Spock likes you? How long have you been taking advantage of his kindness? I never approved but I stayed out of it. And now you go the other way and pull this shit? Avoiding him like the plague?”

“Fucking fuck off, what do you know? I’m not obligated to talk to him. It’s not _my_ fault he decided to make a terrible decision and fall in love with me!”

McCoy makes a noise of aggravation. “Jim. I know you. You don’t mean that. Do you?”

McCoy watches guilt spread over Jim’s face. “Bones. I had no choice.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not dating him, asshat. I’m dating _his younger brother_.”

“But how do you feel? About the older Spock?”

Jim doesn’t reply.

“Break up with Spock, then.”

“I don’t want to.”

McCoy throws his arms into the air.

“Bones,” Jim snaps. McCoy sees a desperate vulnerability in Jim’s eyes, fear that he seldom gets to witness. “We’ve been dating for almost four months now. You know how much that means to me. We respect each other’s boundaries and we like each other well enough. A lot. Sure, sometimes the fights are so bad that - that - um. But the makeup sex is amazing. The sex in general is amazing.”

Jim shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding eye contact. “I couldn’t ask for more. There’s no reason to break up with Spock, so I’m not breaking up with him. Why don’t you try convincing him, if you’re so determined?”

At that, McCoy falters. If he’s being honest with himself, which is something he’s decided to do long ago, he’s noticed the evolving relationship between him and Jim’s boyfriend. McCoy doesn’t know if he’s been reading too deeply into it, but there’s definitely been some sort of magnetism from the younger Spock’s end towards him. McCoy isn’t even sure if Spock knows he’s been doing it. And McCoy doesn’t want to get anywhere close to that while Spock and Jim are still together. 

Oblivious to McCoy’s internal struggle, Jim pushes McCoy back towards the door. “You’re lucky I don’t talk to Spock’s older brother anymore. I’m sure he’d have a fit if he heard about you doing this. Leave me alone. I’m going back to sleep.”

McCoy’s ready to start arguing again, but Jim’s tone sounds so weary and defeated that he finds himself being led out into the hallway without a struggle.

Spock sits with his head in his hands at a library desk. Students noisily pass by behind him, oblivious to his distress.

Spock had been certain his younger brother would comment on the chocolate liqueur he left on the living space table. The evidence would have been easy enough to discard but Spock didn’t touch it.

His younger brother and McCoy returned from the conference. Jim continued to avoid any form of contact with Spock. A week passed, then another.

Spock feels like a string on tension, avoiding his own apartment whenever he can, waiting for his younger brother to text him, approach him, full of betrayal, of anger.

Nothing happens. The liqueur continues to sit on the table, as if mocking him.

Spock removes his glasses and rubs at his bleary eyes. He gathers his belongings and puts on his heavy coat to walk back to his apartment. He makes a detour to the piano lounge like always, already knowing that it has been abandoned ever since Jim stopped talking to him.

The piano sits in the corner, quiet. Spock waits there for a little too long. No one shows up.

Spock goes home. He hears the television softly through his closed apartment door and his heart rate spikes.

When he enters, he sees his younger brother wrapped in a blanket on the couch, watching a movie about folded paper coming to life. Spock slowly closes the door and takes off his shoes, one by one.

“We broke up.”

Spock drops his keys on the counter and stares at his younger brother. “What?”

His younger brother tightens his blanket around him. His voice is slightly wobbly. “We had a very long conversation today. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I broke up with Jim, but we have agreed to say it was mutual.”

Spock rushes to his younger brother’s side, still in his coat. “Jim never cheated on you, Spock. I was the only one at fault. I was encouraging his behavior.”

His younger brother looks up, gaze soft without a hint of hatred. “I trust Jim. I trust you too, _sa’kai_. I am certain that you are overstating the extent of your actions.”

“Then you understand there is no reason to end your relations with him,” Spock says, almost desperately. 

“Your affection for Jim was only one of the many factors. I thought about it a great deal, and after talking to Jim, we decided it would be beneficial to the both of us to terminate the intimate aspect of our relationship.”

His younger brother looks down at his hands twisted in the blankets. “It is the first time I have been the one to end the relationship. It still - hurts a great deal more than I expected.” His words are broken. Spock sits down and wraps a gentle arm around his younger brother’s head. 

His younger brother closes his eyes and accepts the silent comfort. “McCoy is visiting Joanna. We have already spoken to her through video calls fourteen times. Joanna and I look forward to meeting each other in person someday.”

“That does not surprise me.” Spock had just been wondering why his younger brother had come to him instead of McCoy.

Briefly, Spock wonders where Jim is - who he has to comfort him.

“Jim does not have very many friends,” Baby Spock says, as if reading his thoughts. “It is very likely he is alone now. You should go comfort him.”

Spock hesitates. 

“It is the ideal thing to do, _sa’kai_. I will be fine here.”

Spock finally unzips his jacket and goes to the refrigerator. “Did you eat dinner yet? What should we have tonight?”

Spock sees the tension ease in his younger brother’s shoulders and knows he has made the right decision.


	4. Chapter 4

“Let me get this straight,” McCoy says carefully.

“Yeah?” Jim raises his eyebrows.

“You two broke up?”

“Yes,” Spock says, his shoulders under Jim’s arm. He is almost smiling, despite the other people in the cafe who could possibly see.

“And you two are still broken up, like, at this moment?”

“Yeah,” Jim repeats with a wide grin.

“I’m confused.” McCoy watches Jim accept a forkful of cake from Spock’s hand. “You two were never like this while you were dating.”

“There is substantially less pressure now that we no longer are concerned with maintaining the state of our relationship.” Spock is offering cake to McCoy now.

McCoy stares down at the fork, then laughs. “You kids.” He accepts Spock’s offering and makes a pleased noise. “That’s pretty good carrot cake.”

Spock looks extremely satisfied.

Jim nudges Spock. “Bones makes carrot cake way better than this.”

Spock raises his eyebrows and looks at McCoy. “I heard from my older brother that you are proficient in baking confectionery products.”

“It’s just edible chemistry,” McCoy says with a shrug. 

Jim removes his hand from Spock’s shoulders to reach for his coffee. “You should make apple tart for Spock, Bones.”

“I have already sampled McCoy’s tart,” Spock says. “My older brother shared some with me. It is excellent.”

McCoy is barely able to process the dazzling compliment when Jim says, “Bones is free tomorrow afternoon. Right? You two should hang out at his apartment, he can make you apple tart. And you can discuss, I dunno, politics, I guess. The ethics of the latest instated guardianship laws they were talking about in the news.”

“About that-” McCoy and Spock speak simultaneously before startling and looking at each other. McCoy feels his eyebrows raising higher in bewilderment. Spock looks expectantly back at him. Jim is smirking. 

McCoy glances back and forth at Jim, then Spock. “I - I mean, sure, I’m free.”

Spock holds out his hand. “I will also be available. Text me the address of your apartment and I shall meet you at four thirty.”

“Oh - okay.” McCoy looks at Jim again, but Jim just looks satisfied and more content than he’s seen him in a while.

McCoy almost doesn’t hear the apartment door opening because he is so focused on the task at hand.

“McCoy?” Baby Spock’s eyes widen seeing McCoy and Older Spock together in Spock's own kitchen. Baby Spock takes two accusing steps forward before halting, face flushing at his obvious reveal of emotion.

Older Spock puts down a bowl and shakes his head fondly. He goes to get his coat. “I will be back in four hours. Text me if you require something.” He wraps his scarf around himself and pats Baby Spock on the head before walking out of the apartment.

Spock angrily straightens his bangs as the door closes. “Where is he going?”

McCoy turns off the stove. “Giving us a little space. Grab a seat.” Spock slowly sits at the kitchen table. He seems to be noticing the pungent, spicy fragrance in the air for the first time. His gaze changes.

“McCoy? Is that what I believe it is?”

“Vegan kimchi stew, courtesy of Chef McCoy.” McCoy flourishes the pot lid and steam billows up.

Spock seems at a loss for words, so McCoy explains, “Your older brother helped me contact Amanda to get the recipe. We went shopping together and made it for you.” Spock's eyes shine at the mention of his mother. 

McCoy takes a spoon of the bright red broth and blows on it to cool it. “Here. Try it. Let me know if it needs more salt.”

Spock lets out a breath and leans forward to sample it. He doesn’t voice a reply, and McCoy doesn’t need one. Spock’s bright eyes, tinted with delight, are enough of a sign to McCoy.

McCoy urges Spock to sit at the kitchen table while he ladles out the rich stew into a bowl for Spock and brings their food over. McCoy sits across from Spock, and Spock looks down at their bowls of rice and various Vulcan side dishes that his older brother had already made. There’s only one bowl of stew, and it sits on Spock’s side of the table.

Spock looks up. “What about your serving?”

McCoy shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m like your brother. Can’t handle spicy food.” Older Spock had told McCoy that Spock seldom got to eat his favorite dish, because he was the only one that could eat it in their entire family.

Spock spoons up some of the tofu. McCoy forgets to eat, perfectly content with watching Spock savor the cooking. 

“Leonard.” Spock’s voice becomes very soft. “It is excellent.”

The praise has McCoy internally skipping and yelling in triumph, but he manages to keep his reaction to a wide, goofy smile. “That’s great. I’m so glad you like it.”

Spock abruptly stands. “I have something to give you as well.”

McCoy blinks as Spock disappears into his room. He returns with a green object cradled in his hand.

“The turtle origami model,” McCoy says, charmed. “From the meeting this week. You finally figured it out?”

Spock extends his arm, offering it to McCoy.

McCoy carefully takes the origami and realizes it's made of thin layers of green plastic. “You 3D-printed an origami turtle?”

“I remembered you mentioning Joanna's fondness for puzzles. I created a computer model of the original origami structure and transformed it into a solid shape. I then proceeded to design it with interlocking components. The level of difficulty should be appropriate for Joanna and her friends.”

McCoy stands so that he is face to face with Spock. “Let me get this straight. You couldn't fold the fucking paper so you went and designed and fabricated this brilliant toy model that you could gift it to my baby girl?”

Spock looks so fucking unabashed that McCoy can’t help laughing and leaning over to kiss him. “God, you’re cute as fuck. Oh my god. And your lips are really fucking spicy.”

For some reason, that’s the thing that makes Spock laugh for the first time in front of McCoy.

“Jim?”

Jim looks up from where he sits on the piano bench, not playing anything. The dark circles under his eyes are a little more prominent, but his smile is as radiant as ever. “Hey.”

Spock stands a little distance away, clutching the strap of his laptop bag. “Hello.”

It’s their first interaction since the night they drank together. Neither of them speak first. Spock feels the silence drag out between them and is compelled to break it. “Jim, I heard - about McCoy.” Spock can’t continue.

Jim nods. “And your younger brother.”

Spock lowers his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, Spock.” Jim’s voice is affectionate. “Believe me. I couldn’t be happier for those two idiots, and I made sure that they knew. They’re great for each other.”

Spock hesitates. He had expected a much greater backlash but everything has remained completely anticlimactic. “I have not seen my younger brother act like this before. He _smiles_ to himself in our apartment now.”

Jim chuckles. “Bones has that effect on people.”

“Indeed.”

There is a lull in the conversation again. Spock internally shakes his head at himself. There is nothing between them anymore, and yet he is reluctant to approach Jim. Jim appears to be feeling the same trepidation, because he doesn’t move aside on the piano bench to make room for Spock like he usually does. His fingers flex at his sides.

Spock takes a step back. “It’s a relief to see you are alright. If you need me, I will be in the graduate student offices.”

He nods at Jim and flees before he can hear his response.

“ _Sa’kai_?” Spock looks up from his seat at his bedroom desk. Baby Spock is at the doorway, avoiding eye contact.

Spock nods once at him. “Do you require something?”

Baby Spock is starting to blush now. “Leonard is coming to my room tonight.”

Spock can only stare for a moment. His brother has never brought someone to their apartment before. He does not know how to proceed.

“His roommate does not permit us to spend the night together at his own apartment anymore.”

Spock finds his voice. “You are kicking me out? Of my own apartment?”

“It would be advisable to give us privacy.” Baby Spock’s shoulders are squared. “You could stay the night with Jim. I am sure he would not be opposed.”

Spock glares. “Forgive me, but I find myself averse to that suggestion.”

Baby Spock turns to leave. “You have been warned.”

Spock resists the urge to throw his stylus at his younger brother’s head.

McCoy opens the bedroom door and leaps into the air when he sees Older Spock already awake in the kitchen. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Older Spock startles, nearly dropping the mug in his hand. He curses in Vulcan as hot coffee spills on him. Older Spock looks from his dripping coffee to Leonard, his stare level and emotionless.

“Spock,” McCoy says, throat strangled.

“Good morning. You are up earlier than I expected.”

McCoy’s face goes hot. “Morning,” he mutters back. “Needed a glass of water.”

“Leonard?” McCoy looks at the cracked bedroom door to see his Spock sleepily rubbing his eyes. His normally neat hair is still tousled, and he’s only wearing McCoy’s boxers.

Older Spock grimaces and turns away. He says something McCoy can’t understand, but it sounds downright scathing.

Spock doesn’t sound repentant at all as he replies in the same tongue.

“I didn’t realize you were in your room this whole time,” McCoy says with guilt. Younger Spock’s wrapped himself behind McCoy, chest to McCoy’s back and chin hooked over his shoulder. McCoy snaps back at him, “I thought we had the apartment to ourselves!”

“You are not at fault,” Older Spock says with a wave of his hand. He’s acquired a new cup of coffee. “It seems my younger brother neglected to tell you I was present.” Older Spock raises a pointed eyebrow as he sips at his coffee.

Younger Spock says something in Vulcan, still pressed against McCoy’s back. It’s driving McCoy crazy that he doesn’t know what they’re saying.

Older Spock just shakes his head and walks - staggers - back into his room.

“Fucking hell.” McCoy sighs as he watches Older Spock gently close his door. “You’re a terrible younger brother, Spock.”

“I endeavor to be so,” Spock says, kissing McCoy’s neck.

Of course that leads to McCoy spinning around to capture his decadent lips.

And that leads to them going back into Spock’s room and onto his bed and under the covers again. McCoy desperately hopes they are being marginally quieter than they were the entirety of last night. Probably wishful thinking. 

By the time they’ve resurfaced, it’s way past lunch and they have to get ready for class. Spock lets him shower first because they’re on the verge of running late and shower sex would probably lead to no cooking, which would mean no food. Which would leave Spock grumpy for the rest of the day.

“Wouldn’t it bother your older brother if I’m using all his stuff without asking first?” McCoy peers through Older Spock’s beautiful stocked cabinets and organized pots. It’s very attractive.

Spock’s towel-dried hair is fluffy and McCoy resists the urge to run his hands through it. “I know my brother would not mind, but we can ask if it gives you peace of mind. He usually leaves his door unlocked.” Spock gently knocks on his older brother’s door. “ _Sa’kai?_ ”

There’s no response. McCoy presses behind Spock as he cracks open the door. “Oh. Oh, sweetheart.” McCoy shakes his head with a low chuckle. Older Spock is curled at the foot of his bed above the covers, his phone clutched in one hand. He is lightly snoring, oblivious to his onlookers. “God. I still feel really bad for keeping him up, but he’s cute when he’s napping.”

Spock glares.

“Still not as cute as you, hon, don’t worry your pretty little mind.” McCoy pats him on his fluffy head. Older Spock’s glasses are still on his face, so McCoy quietly approaches to remove Older Spock’s glasses and phone. 

Spock drags McCoy out as he tries to arrange the belongings on the bedside table. “I’m sure if we clean everything to its original order once we are done, my brother will not mind.”

McCoy hums in agreement and follows his boyfriend out, making sure to close Older Spock’s door behind him.

When Spock and McCoy tell Jim what happened at McCoy’s apartment, Jim laughs until he cries.

“No wonder Scotty kicked you out eventually, Bones.” Jim leans back further on the kitchen island. “You two are already difficult enough to deal with individually, but together? Incorrigible.”

“Big words,” McCoy shoots at Jim from where he sits in Spock’s lap. “Have you talked to Older Spock recently, by the way?”

Jim looks up in surprise before his face becomes gloomy. 

“They have not,” Spock says. “I interrogated my older brother yesterday.”

Jim snorts. “Wow, Spock. You were never this involved in my love life while we were fucking.”

Spock ignores him.

McCoy raises his eyebrows. “Jim. Are you waiting for him to make the first move or something?”

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Have you lost interest in him?” Spock asks.

Jim straightens up, a flash of indignation in his eyes before it fizzles out. He awkwardly wraps his arms around himself. “Don’t you think he’s, I don’t know. Too good to be true?”

“My older brother has his vices,” Baby Spock says with an easy shrug. “As all older siblings do.”

“Yeah, but,” Jim begins before falling silent again. McCoy and Spock exchange eye contact. Jim doesn’t seem to notice their gazes shifting from concern to intent.

“What the fuck. Spock?”

Spock startles awake, nearly falling off the narrow, uncomfortable couch. He squints up into the fluorescent light at the source of the voice.

Jim stares down at Spock. He’s wearing his jacket and an oversized piano graphic shirt that exposes his collarbone. Spock’s heart rate escalates and he struggles to sit up. Jim stares down at Spock’s duffel bag, then back at Spock. “What the hell are you doing sleeping in the piano lounge?”

“McCoy is at my apartment again,” Spock mutters, avoiding eye contact. 

“What the fuck. You haven’t been coming to the piano lounge every time he went there, have you? Where have you been staying until now?”

“In McCoy’s apartment. He and his roommate were kind enough to allow me to accommodate their space. However - this week, McCoy’s roommate is unavailable and the key McCoy provided me with tonight does not work. I have contacted various other individuals but they are not picking up the phone. I am convinced McCoy and my younger brother have arranged this on purpose.”

“Why not go back and get the right key from them?”

Spock grimaces. “I would rather sleep in the library than hear McCoy and my younger brother copulating one more time.” 

Jim huffs out a humorless laugh.

The corner of Spock’s mouth quirks up. “I was genuinely considering sleeping in the library before I remembered it is closed at night on the weekends.”

“Oh my god, no. No sleeping in the library, no sleeping in the lounge ever again, Spock. What if someone mugged you?” 

Spock finally looks up at Jim. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jim admits. “I thought a walk would help. But no more walking. You’re coming with me back to my room. Come on.”

Spock allows Jim to help him to his feet and take his duffel bag.


	5. Chapter 5

Jim leads the way out of the building and through the campus. The night has grown bitterly cold. Spock is still shivering when they enter Jim’s room. Jim places the duffel bag aside. “You warm up in here while I get another mattress. You can sleep in my bed, I can sleep on the floor.”

“No,” Spock says immediately. The smell of Jim already permeates the air of his room. If Spock lies down in the warmth where Jim sleeps every night, he might actually lose his mind. Jim furrows his eyebrows, but doesn’t comment before leaving.

He returns and rolls out a standard thin mattress and blankets, arranging it on the floor next to Jim's bed. Spock gives Jim a silent nod of gratitude. They don’t speak to each other again. They take turns brushing their teeth at the small sink in Jim’s room. Spock settles under the blankets as Jim turns out the light and gets into his bed.

Spock already knows he will not be able to sleep. His eyes stay open, and he feels his heart beat in his throat.

He listens to Jim’s breathing even out, growing slower.

“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“You’re still awake?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Spock whispers into the dark, unsure if Jim will reply to him. “Are you truly happy for them, Jim?”

No reply. From this angle, Spock cannot see Jim lying in his bed.

Jim finally sighs. “I resented them at first.”

“Oh.” Spock is unsure what to say. “Their relationship did occur quite suddenly after yours was terminated.”

“It’s not because I was ever associated with them, Spock. I think I resent all happy couples to some extent. As unfair as that is to them.”

“Why?”

“I guess I’ve convinced myself that’s not something I can realistically have.” Jim’s voice lowers. “As long as we’re not actually together, I can - I guess, I can pretend I might be able to have something like Bones and your brother, too.”

Spock sits up and looks at Jim, whose body is facing away from him towards the wall. “We cannot know unless we try.”

Jim’s voice is broken. “I’ve only ever tried, Spock. I’m so tired of it leaving me burned in the end, but I don’t learn and I just keep getting hurt. I can’t - can’t give you what you deserve right now. Not yet.”

Spock leans his head on Jim’s bed. He wishes to reach out to him.

Jim turns his head to look at Spock with lovely, dark eyes. “You shouldn’t have to wait for me, Spock.”

“I do not mind waiting.” Spock smiles. “There is no rush. We can take our time.”

Jim reaches out and gently runs a finger down Spock's cheek, and Spock leans into the touch with half closed eyes. Jim strokes his face again. “Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?”

“Perhaps not as long as I have desired to do this.” Spock rubs a thumb over Jim's beautiful, long fingers that have the skill to coax marvelous, evocative sounds from the piano keys they touch.

Jim huffs out a laugh. “Guess not. Considering you’ve known I exist longer than I knew you did. I’m still peeved about that, I’ll have you know.”

Jim’s fingers escape to gently flick at Spock’s hand. Spock entwines his fingers with Jim’s, preventing him from retracting his hand again.

“Enough hand holding,” Jim says. “You should sleep.”

“Perhaps. In a moment.” Spock squeezes Jim’s hand a little tighter and doesn’t let go.

A month passes. McCoy finally brings his boyfriend to meet Joanna, and they go to the aquarium together to watch turtles. Spock lets Joanna hold his hand, and he has an answer for every question Joanna asks. 

Jim has a couple performances and invites them all to attend. McCoy and Spock always find it more amusing to watch the Older Spock's reactions than listen to the performance itself. Older Spock always brings a bouquet of flowers for each performance, wrapped up in crinkling brightly colored paper.

There’s always a large crowd to congratulate Jim after the performances, but Jim has eyes for only one person. Despite their lingering gazes, Jim and Older Spock's interactions stay friendly but reserved. Older Spock’s bouquet is always smothered among the many other bouquets Jim ends up holding.

Finals for the semester come around, and Jim spends more and more time studying for his non-musical liberals with McCoy and Spock. Both McCoy and Spock have three tests stacked up on a single day, and frequently a stream of cursing can be heard from McCoy's mouth.

Predictably, Spock finishes the year with superior grades and exam scores, but he is indignant that McCoy managed to get a higher score on their developmental psychology elective.

McCoy just laughs at him.

McCoy is delighted when Spock accepts his invitation to spend the break with him and Joanna. Joanna might be even more excited than McCoy. Spock is still concerned about leaving his older brother alone in their apartment, but Older Spock assures him that he will be fine. He plans to work on his personal writing projects.

Jim found a last minute opportunity with a philharmonic orchestra whose pianist had to back out at the last minute. He spends his summer with few moments to talk to the rest of them. McCoy has to admit, it's quiet without contact from Jim that break. Jim sends a video of one of their performances, and even Spock has to admit it’s incredible.

McCoy is so pleased to see Jim at the beginning of the next semester that he squeezes Jim in a back-breaking hug. They agree to eat dinner together in the Spocks’ apartment that night. Older Spock had something come up, and can’t make it.

The sound of bubbling broth fills the background. McCoy grumbles, “Between you and me, I think _he’s_ lying.”

Jim doesn’t reply, sitting at the kitchen table and fiddling with his chopsticks.

Spock glances behind him at Jim, washing a cutting board. “My older brother remains unattached despite your encouragement for him to stop waiting for you.” 

Jim grimaces. “You two worry about your own love life, and stay out of mine.”

Spock turns off the kitchen sink and shifts a little to make room for McCoy, who easily navigates around his boyfriend to set the hot pot on the table. “I will not. He is still my older brother, as questionable as I find his taste.”

“Might I remind you that _you_ chose to date me at some point?”

Spock pretends not to hear, sticking his head into the refrigerator. “Did you take out the miso sauce, Leonard?”

McCoy winks at Jim. “It’s on the table, hon.”

The rest of the meal is relatively quiet. Spock and McCoy talk mostly about the new place they’re planning to get together when they graduate. Jim smiles and laughs at all the right moments, but it’s like his mind is in another world.

McCoy sees Jim out after Spock says he will shower first, sensing McCoy wants a moment alone with Jim. They stand in the entryway, and Jim avoids eye contact as McCoy watches him put on his shoes. “Have you decided not to ask Older Spock out, then?”

Jim is silent for a long moment. “It would never work out anyways, Bones.”

“Not with that attitude, it won’t,” McCoy scowls. “In my opinion, it’s time you stop finding excuses and trust yourself. You’re a good kid, Jim.”

McCoy stabs a finger into Jim’s chest before he can respond. “No,” McCoy says firmly. “I don't wanna hear it. Spock and I wouldn’t let you anywhere near Older Spock if we knew you wouldn’t be good to him. But we know, and that’s why you have our permission.”

Jim’s face is twisted between horror and amusement. “Well, shit. Good to know you’ve given me your blessing, _Dad_.”

“Get out of here so Spock can fuck me into the mattress.”

Jim makes a noise of disgust and hightails it out of the apartment door.

Spock walks with Jim down the campus walkway, empty of its usual crowd of students. It’s late at night. Jim is almost touching Spock as they walk side by side.

Six hours ago Jim had asked Spock to come with him to visit this city’s water show, one of their most famous attractions. 

Spock had wanted to ask what Jim’s intentions are, but became wary that the question would cause Jim to close off from him, or worse, change his mind. He accepted the invitation.

Spock had been silently thrilled when Jim pressed up next to him where they leaned against the railing, waiting for the show to begin. When the music had begun, Spock looked in shock at Jim, who just laughed and leaned against Spock’s shoulder.

It was the orchestration of Jim’s composition.

Spock had spent half the show watching the fountain move in time to the music, and the other half with his eyes closed, focused on Jim’s music and the pressure of Jim’s body at his side.

When the show had ended, they had gone to a nearby vegan cafe despite the late hour. Jim talked about what had occurred during his orchestra tour while Spock eagerly listened.

“I can walk you to your place, if you’d like.” Spock startles back to the present. He realizes they have arrived at the crossroads between Jim’s dorm and Spock’s apartment.

“That is unnecessary, Jim. Please go and get rest.”

Jim smiles at him, illuminated by soft light coming through the windows of the nearby building. Spock hesitates, his heart pounding. 

“Jim?”

“Yeah, Spock?”

“. . . Was this a date?”

Jim blinks. “Spock - fuck.” He leans into Spock. “I’m sorry I didn’t - of course this was a date.”

“Oh. Good.” Spock’s face breaks into a smile, and Jim laughs, a noise of pure delight. He hugs Spock tightly. 

Spock curls his arms around Jim, wondering if he can hear Spock’s rapid pulse.

“You get some sleep, too.”

“Yes. Goodnight, Jim.”

Jim leans back slightly. Their faces are very close. Spock is dimly aware that a date is customarily ended with a kiss - and he is so nervous, his fingers are almost trembling. Jim raises an eyebrow and leans closer. Spock’s mind blanks and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Jim gently shifts to hug Spock one last time before stepping back. Spock opens his eyes, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. Jim casually comments, “This might be the first time I didn't end a date with a kiss. Or sex. Or both.”

Spock exhales. “How does that feel?”

“I don't know.” Jim affectionately adjusts Spock’s bangs, before letting go. “Okay. Goodnight for real now.”

“Yes. Goodnight,” Spock repeats, hoping his relief is not too evident in his expression. Yet at the same time he is feeling rather foolish. Jim’s expression changes. He leans forward into Spock again, tilting his head, and Spock nearly flinches away.

Jim hovers right in front of Spock’s lips and doesn’t move closer. “Thought so.” 

“I’m sorry - I’d very much like to kiss you goodnight,” Spock mutters, feeling his entire body heating up in embarrassment.

Jim nuzzles Spock’s cheek and embraces Spock again. “Please don’t feel bad, Spock. There’s no rush. We can take our time.”

Spock hugs Jim tighter. “In that case, I’d like to hold you a moment longer.”

Jim huffs out a laugh. “Of course, Spock, I don’t mind. At all.”

Apparently there had been a bet between McCoy and Baby Spock on whether they would have sex the first date.

Baby Spock lost the bet.

Jim opens the door to his room. Spock smiles shyly, hand still in the air after knocking.

“Spock?” Jim’s face lights up. Then his eyebrows furrow. He looks down at Spock’s duffel bag, then at Spock again. “Locked out of McCoy’s apartment again?”

“I did not ask McCoy for his apartment key.” Spock’s shoulders tense up a little.

Jim gently takes Spock’s hand and pulls him in. “You know you’re always welcome here. I’m gonna shower before going to sleep. Do you need anything?”

“I showered at my own place before coming here.” 

Jim nods with a hum. “Feel free to turn up the heat if you need. I’ll be back soon.”

As Jim showers in the dorm bathroom, Spock brushes his teeth in solitude and changes into a soft shirt with a graphic of a black cat playing a piano. It’s a gift from Jim received during their fourteenth date together. Spock eases himself onto Jim’s bed, sighing as he curls under the covers. He’s never felt more content. 

Spock is already drowsy when Jim returns. “Spock?” Jim’s voice is soft.

Spock makes a small noise in response, which makes Jim chuckle softly. “Okay, sleepyhead.” Jim turns on the small desk lamp so he can turn off the main light. He finishes getting ready for bed briskly before leaning onto his bed next to Spock. “Don’t you need to remove those glasses?”

Spock hums, eyes closed. He feels his glasses gently sliding off his face, and a soft sound from the bedside table. Jim’s weight is added to the mattress and the desk light is turned off. The bed is not small, but Jim curls up right into Spock's body. “Goodnight, Spock.”

Spock turns over, feeling Jim’s face with his fingers, locating his nose, his lips. Spock presses his thumb right under Jim’s lower lip and uses it to guide his face towards Jim’s. 

His first kiss is a gentle press to slightly chapped lips, slightly parted and tasting of cinnamon toothpaste. “Goodnight, Jim.”

Jim buries his face into Spock’s neck, and Spock feels a chaste kiss and wide smile on the sensitive skin. Spock falls asleep feeling the perfect warmth of Jim’s hand over his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (or reaching the bottom of the page ^^) I appreciate all kudos and any form of comments! especially the ones w emoji spam 💖💖✨✨
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, [you might like this wacky canon divergent AU fic where McCoy Prime and AOS Spock meet on Delta Vega](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599920)


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